


The Siege of Bag End

by blueleaf_les



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Family Drama, Gen, Hobbit Culture & Customs, The Green Classics of Hobbit Literature and Drama, bag end is the new helm's deep, bilbo adopting all young hobbits he can see, class diversity in hobbit society, longbottom leaf, pippin ruins everything, read end notes there is a riddle for you, turning point in sam's life, young frodo home alone mission failed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:41:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25104856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueleaf_les/pseuds/blueleaf_les
Summary: as Bilbo goes off on one of his summer trips, Frodo stays at Bag End and receives two unexpected visits. first Merry and Pippin arrive. Bilbo’s well-supplied cuddy gets plundered even before the breakfast, but that’s not the end of calamities: Lobelia appears. nobody expects the Sackville-Baggins inquisition!!
Comments: 8
Kudos: 13
Collections: Tolkien Gen Week 2020





	The Siege of Bag End

**Author's Note:**

> this story was written as an assignment for Tolkien Gen Week and was meant for the “family” day, so i am posting it today (June 6th 2020). initially i was going to explore the relationships in the Baggins’ family: how Bilbo and Frodo get along after the adoption, how are things with Bilbo and Lobelia. however, during the writing process i understood there is no way to show how the family functions without contrasting it with how the individuals function with people outside the immediate family circle, hence my attempts to show how Frodo maintains contact with his cousins, and the appearance of Sam and Gaffer (and also uncle Grodo, who seems to be an OC but, like, every hobbit family needs an uncle Grodo).  
> and with the other hobbits coming, there is a story that combines almost all of the topic for this year’s TGW:  
> \- family (obvious; Bagginses and Gamgees, but also kind of Tooks and Brandybucks are mentioned too),  
> \- platonic relationships (i especially love Merry-Frodo sibling-like relationship, and Sam-Bilbo student-teacher relationship, but you can find many more!),  
> \- gray spaces (you though i was going to elaborate on how Frodo-Sam relationship is undefinable here, but look at Bilbo and Lobelia! they’re my favourites - there is no saying if they like each other but pretend not to just to create ETERNAL FAMILY DRAMA, genuinely hate each other bc of so many misunderstandings that happened between them along the way, or need each other to vent once and again),  
> \- diversity (not only the diversity of characters, but also the class differences, mind you!)  
> \- group dynamic (the hobbits are a lively group! and it was so exciting to observe how Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin behave on their own and when Bilbo is around!).  
> i hope you’ll like reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!

“This is the door to the other cuddy we’re not allowed to enter, this is the pantry and there is uncle Bilbo’s bedroom.”

“Wise”, Merry assumed. “A bedroom should always be near the cuddy so that you can easily reach it at night.”

“I agree”, said Frodo, sitting on one of the wooden cases standing in the corridor. “Uncle Bilbo doesn’t usually eat at night, but I reckon he feels safer when he has food within…”

“Hey, could you hear that?!” Merry clasped his fingers on Frodo’s arm. They listened in silence, looking at each other with heed (uncle Bilbo was to be away for two more days and they weren’t expecting any guests, besides all the doors were carefully locked; Frodo and Merry weren’t cowards, but they weren’t reckless either), until Frodo sighed with relief.

“Ah, it’s Sam. He has the back-door keys. It must be him.”

Well, Frodo was sure it was Sam: he could recognize his steps. Merry nodded, remembering the family of lower-class hobbits Frodo said were living in the neighbourhood, Gamgee was their surname. Merry got to see Sam yesterday, when he arrived to Bag End with uncle Grodo, who agreed to give him and Pippin a lift to the Hill. Pippin got bored during a long summer in Buckland, where he was left by Paladin under the care of Merry’s parents, because Pippin’s sisters were again being extraordinarily difficult and their parents decided they needed a long upbringing session without being interrupted, and he suggested to Merry that they could make someone take them to see Frodo. Merry missed his cousin, who moved out of Buckland only a year ago, and as soon as there was news that Grodo is travelling in that direction, they made him take them with him.

When they arrived, Frodo was alone and rather shocked. He explained that Bilbo went for “a short adventure”, as it was his habit to wander here and there in summer, and would come back soon - two or three days at the most. Grodo was sorry to hear it, since he expected to see his cousin, but couldn’t stray any longer than till the morning. Frodo was afraid to be left with two underage hobbits under his care, but nevertheless he made a very quick but also a nourishing supper for the guests and prepared beds for them, showing no discomfort or anxiety. In the morning he saw Grodo off very kindly and then started to show Merry around (Pippin was still sleeping). And at this moment Sam has arrived.

“Hullo, Mr. Frodo”, he said and lowered his head, when Frodo and Merry came towards him. He was standing awkwardly by the kitchen door and holding his hat in his hands. Merry smiled and, feeling Sam’s curious gaze at himself, offered his hand.

“Hi, Sam, nice to see you! Have you met Merry?”, he asked. Sam said he hadn’t and shook Merry’s hand with care. “So Sam, this is Meriadoc Brandybuck, my dear cousin I told you about. He came with my other cousin, Pippin Took, and they’ll stay for some time this summer. Merry, this is Sam, my friend.”

“And the gardener”, Sam giggled uneasily.

“I’ve heard about you! You must tell me everything about gardening, I am so interested! I love growing herbs!”, Merry exclaimed. Frodo could see Sam judged him as unfit for hard work in the garden and the orchard, but was glad that his passion was appreciated.

“You seem very young, Mr. Brandybuck”, he said kindly. He judged that Merry could be of the same age as youngest Cotton. “But I don’t doubt you’ll become a great… a wise… hm… oh, yes, I remember! A loremaster!”, he blushed for losing his words again. Frodo patted his shoulder.

“Merry’s on his plant phase again”, he explained. “You’ll be exhausted by his questions soon enough.”

“I’m afraid we’ll all be exhausted by something much, hm, less enthusiastic if you take my meaning”, answered Sam, mildly. “I just dropped in to let you know, Mr. Frodo, because I was tending the hedge, as Mr. Bilbo said I should, and on the path to Bag End I saw HER.”

“LOBELIA!” Frodo gasped. “O-oh no no no, her again! Why is she always coming when uncle Bilbo is away, I don’t want her here!”, he cried.

“Is it THIS Lobelia?!” Merry knew her from Bilbo’s stories only and always considered her as real as Smaug the dragon, in other words: unreal, and simply too bad to exist (dear Reader, do not judge him for that; he was only as much as ten in our reckoning and little did he know that in years to come he’d stand face to face with the Witchking of Angmar; at this point the evil of Lobelia Sackville-Baggins’s stealing of the spoons was almost exceeding his understanding).

“One and the same! There is only one Lobelia, and this is already far too many Lobelias!”, Frodo hissed and anger could be seen in his eyes. “Oh, I wish uncle Bilbo was here to tell her off!... Sam, have you closed the door?”

“Of course I have, Mr. Frodo.” They both seemed to act like two human children playing soldiers in a fortress that is about to be besieged, pretending that the issue is of highest importance. Merry adjusted to the spirit immediately.

“How far is she?”, asked Frodo, holding Merry’s hand.  
“Dunno, Mr. Frodo, she could be here now every minute”, Sam replied. And blushed again. “Please don’t make me go outside, I know the hedge needs tending and I’ll definitely take…”

“Sam, stop it, of course you’re not going outside before she’s away, I’ll never ever leave you as her pray, and now quick everybody, we must bar the door!”

“Yayy!”, shouted Merry.

Frodo and Sam started moving the huge chest (uncle Bilbo’s mother’s dowry chest!) to the door. Merry had an impression that they’ve been doing it several times before. Suddenly, amongst the heavy breathing and chugging, a horrible noise was heard.

“Is she here?!”

They run towards the source of the noise and in the middle of the corridor they found Pippin, lying on the floor, surrounded by apples that rolled from a toppled barrel. The cuddy door was opened and Frodo had a strong suspicion that the interior was already plundered by the little hungry hobbit.

“Oh my Gandalf”, Merry whispered.  
“Hey! Don’t call the name of the one you don’t want to appear!”, Sam reprimanded him.  
“This is a ruin.”  
“Pippin! No!”, cried Frodo.  
“Sorry… I was hungry…”

“How did you do that?!”, lamented Sam. “How did you open Mr. Bilbo’s secret cuddy! How did you overthrow this barrel!”

“The keys were there”, Pippin pointed to the hook at the wall, and bit an apple. “And about the barrel I’m not sure. I climbed it to reach for the mushrooms, and… it just…”

“MUSHROOMS!”, Frodo mourned. But he knew there was no time to pick the mushrooms. “Stand up, Pippin, you must help us! Come quick, Merry, take him and block the other door there”, he pointed to the back door on the left. Merry nodded, took Pippin’s hand and they run to the other part of the corridor. Frodo and Sam run to block the front and kitchen door.

“What’s goin’ on?!” asked Pippin.  
“No time to talk! Help me, bring this chair!”  
“Merry, what…”  
“Lobelia’s here!”

Pippin’s eyes got wider and he run to fetch the chair. They gathered the furniture they could lift and built a thick but low barricade in front of the door. They made sure everyone would be stopped by it: not only Lobelia, but also an armed Elven-warrior or a tropu of Dwarves. Satisfied with their work, they returned to Frodo and Sam.

“Are you done?”, asked Frodo, stepping away from Sam.  
“Of course! As well as could be!” Merry reported.

“I’m hungry. Can we have breakfast?”, asked Pippin. “We can’t fight Lobelia when we’re hungry, right?”

“You have to clean the mess first!”, said Sam firmly. He was lugged by the fact that Mr. Bibo’s cuddy got devastated.

“No, no, please, let’s not let him inside the cuddy”, Frodo suggested. He was afraid that Pippin’s small hands are capable of making a huge mess. “We can sort it out together now. Or later. Now…”

They heard angry knocking on the front door.

“Frodo Baggins, open the door!” They heard Lobelia’s voice. “I am warning you! I know you’re there!”

Frodo’s face turned pale. It ceased to be fun, now he really got anxious. Mostly because he had guests to entertain, and he knew that with Lobelia hanging at the door it would be exceptionally difficult.

“So she exists?”, asked Pippin thoughtfully. “Ii thought she was a…”

“Shhh!”, Merry covered his mouth. “Be quiet!...”  
“FRODO BAGGINS, OPEN THE DOOR! NOW!”

They moved away from the window just in time so that she hadn’t noticed them when her face appeared in the windowframe.

“I’m genuinely scared of this lady, Mr. Frodo”, whispered Sam. “I don't mean to offend your and Mr. Bilbo’s family, but I am scared.”

“I know, Sam, so am I”, Frodo whispered back. Pippin’s eyes were wide as apples, Merry was breathing fast.

“Will she come here?” he asked.

They saw her move away from the window.

“She’ll try the kitchen door now!” said Frodo. “Let’s just hope she’ll soon get bored and go away…”

Sam’s expression told him he wasn’t so sure she would. The last time she came she was absolutely determined to wait for Bilbo, and she really spent the entire day waiting for him. They listened, and it was quiet for such a long while that they thought that she’s already gone, when they heard rambling on the back door. They listened carefully, holding their breaths. She was shouting loud, but eventually she finished.

Sam peeked through the window.  
“Oh no, she went to see my Gaffer…”  
“Poor Mr. Gamgee”, said Frodo. “Hope he’ll scare her away though…”

“Mrs. Lobelia is good at spitting nails, for sure, Mr. Frodo, but my Gaffer will have his word, believe me when I tell you…”  
Frodo knew that perfectly well. He’s known Gaffer for a year now and could recall at least a hundred of situations in which he told Sam off. For anything.

Frodo was rather afraid of him, though he also felt he was being Gaffer’s favourite - for no better reason than the fact that “Mr. Bilbo” adopted him as his rightful heir. Frodo wasn’t content with the fact that the positive emotions and words that should be reserved for Sam were handed over to him. This made him pity Sam. He felt obliged to give Sam back what was his, in one way or another. And, besides, he really liked him and wish Sam wouldn’t keep calling himself merely “a gardener”.

Now they started to clean up the mess that Pippin made. Frodo commanded Merry and Pippin to pick up the apples and refill the barrel (“refill, mind you”, said Sam solemnly. “You’re not supposed to eat them, just put them back to the barrel, young rascals.” “I’m not a rascal!”, exclaimed Merry. “Shhh!”, hissed Frodo). Sam was picking the jars and the bunches of dried mushrooms and herbs, and giving them to Frodo, who stood firm on a special ladder and was putting them in the right order uncle Bilbo liked. Hardly have they started - because they spent a few minutes on being happy that she’s backed and exchanging bickery comments - when they heard the door opening.

They looked at one another in panic.  
“Frodo Baggins! There you are!”  
“The back door!” Merry squeaked. Pippin hid behind him and Frodo. “But… but we made a barricade!...”  
Frodo facepalmed.

“The back door opens outside, not inside! How could you not check that!”, he cried. They heard Lobelia’s footsteps on the corridor’s wooden parquet. She was mumbling something, and it didn’t sound friendly. “When I told you to block the door, I meant you should just block it with the chain and deadbolt!... Did you really think I would… Oh, Merry! Everything is lost!”

“Mr. Frodo, do not despair, it’s not that bad”, said Sam. “She’ll… she’ll go, sooner or later…”

They waited. The steps were getting louder and louder. Finally Lobelia appeared in the corridor’s turn. She put her palms on her hips and looked at the ruinous mess that Pippin had made: apples rolling everywhere, jars deserted all over the floor, good mushrooms mixed with scrunched herbs…

“Perfect. Ju-ust perfect.” She uttered angrily. “One cannot ever, never-ever, trust this disaster of a hobbit. One can never be sure of what he would endeavour on next. I just cannot believe what my very own eyes are seeing right now. Four young fellas? Has this weirdo Bilbo adopted all of you?”, she smirked.

“Yes”, Frodo said boldly, standing firm on his barrel. He enjoyed finally being taller than her. He’d soon touch the ceiling with his hair.  
“Yes, he has. One by one. But last time I checked it was none of your business”, he said without even thinking about it.  
Pippin laughed, hearing one of uncle Bilbo’s catchphrases.

“How dare you!”, she exhaled and scrutinised the mess. All of the young hobbits could perfectly see that she was glad to see how bad it was. Frodo understood she’ll not hesitate to mention it to Bilbo when they next meet. He remembered uncle Bilbo’s ability to turn up at a moment least expected, and thought he’d be awfully ashamed to be caught by him right now. Suddenly he felt small and ineligible.

“Well, well… Where is this rogue now? I have to talk to him”, she announced.

“Who do you mean, Mrs. Sackville?” Sam still wasn’t accepting that Lobelia’s second surname was ‘Baggins’. “We don’t give place to any rogues, as far as I know!”

“Will you answer me, Frodo Baggins?”  
“Sam’s just answered you.”  
“Well, excellent”, she blinked several times and stepped over the apples, heading towards the living room. “I shall wait for him.”  
They groaned and followed her, leaving the mess on the floor. It was obvious that they’d have to watch her carefully so that nothing disappears from Bag End.

The five of them sat in the dining room, Lobelia on Bilbo’s favourite armchair and the young hobbits placed strategically in different parts of the interior. Lobelia ignored them, enjoying the view. She placed her knitted palms on her stomach and sighed calmly. For the first time Frodo thought that she looked… receptive? Or at least… harmless. She seemed content and soothed. She was observing all the details and ornaments in the room. Her expression was even… engaging? And for a moment she looked younger than Frodo knew she was. He peeked at his friends. Sam was sitting steady, with his arms folded, and frowning. Pippin was sneakily eating an apple he’d taken from the floor. Merry was preoccupied with remembering the positions of objects in the room, so that he’d know if anything disappeared. And Lobelia… was still harmless. Frodo wondered if he should offer her a cup of tea; but in the last moment he remembered how she was always mean to Sam and he thought that no matter how kind she appears now, she will not be forgiven her harshness towards Sam. No way.

“Sam”, he broke the silence after what seemed an hour. “I… I think you could… erm… well… you know… I don’t want to keep you any longer than it’s necessary, dear friend.”

Sam gave him a look that said “if you really think, Mr. Frodo, that I could desert you in a need so dire as this one, you’re utterly wrong, if you take my meaning”. Frodo smiled.

They kept waiting for the situation to unfold or change, but nothing was happening. Lobelia was looking more and more natural here and Frodo considered suggesting to Merry and Pippin that they could go and play somewhere in the garden. Although he remembered that Merry and Pippin were basically children and should be taken care of. It would be better to keep an eye on them here.

Pippin yawned.  
“I’m so tired…”, he sighed. “The journey with uncle Grodo was exhausting. I wished for a fine vacation and all I got is…”  
“Oh, be quiet, won’t you!”, murmured Merry.  
“I’m also hungry”, Pippin notified them.  
“You seem to be an excellent host, Frodo”, said Lobelia. “Bilbo did make an awesome choice.”

Frodo didn’t answer. Sam was so stupified with the suggestion that Frodo wasn’t the one and only rightful heir of Bag End that he couldn’t utter a single syllable of protest.

“When will this rogue be back?”, Lobelia asked after what, again, seemed another hour.  
“I do not know what you mean”, said Frodo. She sighed.  
“Then let me make tea for all of us, if you are not willing to fulfill the host’s duties.” She stood up, but Sam was faster.  
“I’ll make tea, Mr. Frodo!” He run to the kitchen. He couldn’t bear her presence any longer.

Frodo wanted to call him back (uncle Bilbo would be disappointed if he knew Lobelia was drinking tea in his cups), but understood that Sam wanted to vanish from her sight.  
He sunk into one of the armchairs in front of Lobelia. He started wondering why were Bilbo and Lobelia’s relations so hostile. When has it started? Were there ever times in which they could stand each other’s company? What led to the situation in which he had to sit here and suffer?

“I’m too hungry for this”, Pippin announced and went to the kitchen. He made Sam prepare scrambled eggs with toasts for him and soon the beautiful smell came from the kitchen to the living room. Merry started to hover and curl in his seat. Soon the smell was so overwhelming that Frodo asked Sam to serve scrambled eggs for Merry and Lobelia, too. They ate together in silence. After the meal Sam took Merry and Pippin to the garden and they took to tending of the hedge together. From the happy cheers coming in through the window, Frodo judged that everything is well and the hedge will look exactly the way uncle Bilbo would like it; otherwise Sam wouldn’t be glad.

After another uncountable time he got utterly bored and tired of staring at Lobelia, who, on the contrary, seemed relaxed. So he took a stroll, a very slow stroll, around the room, and - as if by accident - collected a book from the windowsill. He’d prefer to play outside with his cousins, but there was no way he could leave Lobelia alone here. Bilbo would be extremely disappointed.

“Would you like a book?” he asked, driven by compassion towards her. “To read for now, when you’re waiting for Bilbo, of course.”

“Actually, yes. I’d like to read… Something of the Green Classics of Hobbit Literature and Drama, thank you.”

Frodo almost dropped his book. Has she known even that Bilbo owned the entire collection of the Green Classics of Hobbit Literature and Drama?!

“Would you rather read “Herbs and How to Grow Them” or “The Underhill Chronicles”? I regret to say I don’t quite know your literary tastes…” The fact was the Green Classics of Hobbit Literature and Drama wasn’t his first choice for reading and those were the only titles he could recall now.

“I’d wish for the third part of “The Brief and Wondrous Life of Halemir Sundance”, thank you”, she smiled. Frodo risked three seconds out to bring the book to her from the library next to the living room and handed a thick volume to her. They sat together and read, sipping the tea Sam prepared for them.

*

It so happened that Bilbo was coming back a day earlier than he initially planned and when he was almost in Bag End, he heard a peculiar noise coming from behind the hedge.

“Merry?”, he thought, frowning a little. “What’s this lad doing here?”

He perfectly remembered how Frodo was friends with one of the younger Brandybucks. Seemed reasonable that he’d like to invite him - but why hasn’t he informed Bilbo before? The journey from Buckland lasted more than Bilbo has been away, so if they had planned it before - he should have been notified. And… Pippin? This kid? What is… going on? Bilbo would be surprised to find out that Frodo was having secrets behind his back, especially the ones that required a lot of planning.

“Hey, Mr. Bilbo! Good afternoon!”

He turned and saw old Mr. Gamgee approaching him from the general direction of his small house. He was carrying a shovel with him, and seemed to be happy to be able to take a break from work.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Gamgee!”, Bilbo answered and they shook hands. “What is…”

“Ah, yes, this noise! I am sorry, Mr. Bilbo, but it turns out that my Sam is there for mischief again… He was to tend the hedge, but you’ll never guess what, Mr. Bilbo, he overlooked your cousin Sackville-Baggins and let her enter!”

“Lobelia?!”

“Yes, she’s inside Bag End. I told her you weren’t home when she came to me after she saw Mr. Frodo has barred the door. But Sam must have…”

“Oh, I’m sure Sam never meant anything wrong, Mr. Gamgee. Don’t be so harsh to him, please, he’s a gardener, not my guardian or a warden…”, said Bilbo.

He reassured Gaffer that he wasn’t mad at him or at Sam, and said goodbye in case he wanted to follow him. Mr. Gamgee was incredibly curious of how the meeting of the two suns would look like, but he understood he wasn’t welcome. He shook his head and went home, to see if Sam’s siblings were doing what they were assigned. He would love to have a smoke, but Longbottom Leaf was over expensive this year and he had a strong resolution he’d be saving it. So he said “no” to himself and went straight off.

Meanwhile Bilbo listened to Sam’s, Merry’s and Pippin’s voices to make sure they hadn’t yet discovered his presence, and took the ring from his pocket. He felt a pleasurable shiver in his fingers.

“My precious”, he smiled and put the ring on. His vision got immediately blurred and he felt stronger, bigger, tougher. He cleared his throat and strode boldly to his own house that was said to be under the siege. He passed Merry and Pippin, playing joyfully around Sam, who was working by the hedge with authentic stoicism, and went to the front door.

They were locked. “Of course”, he thought and went to the kitchen door. They didn’t open either so he got really concerned and went to the third door that were hardly ever used. He pulled the handle and saw a primitive barricade of chairs and small chests Frodo took from Buckland. “Oh, Frodo my lad, is this really all you could do…”

He stepped over this stockade and listened. Lobelia wasn’t shouting, that was a good sign. He hoped Frodo was keeping an eye on her so that she doesn’t steal anything. He looked for them and eventually found them sitting in the living room: Frodo sunken in his armchair, with “The Simplest Introduction to Sindarin Proverbs” on his lap and head leaning over it, asleep - and Lobelia relaxed in his chair, with her legs set comfortably on his footstool, reading the beginning of the fourth part of “The Brief and Wondrous Life of Halemir Sundance” and enjoying the hot tea she must have made for herself a while ago.

He was about to scream “What are you doing in my house?!”, but he stopped himself because he clearly saw that she could, shocked, spill the tea on his valuable volume of the Green Classics of Hobbit Literature and Drama, and he could not allow for that. He moved silently to the back of the armchair and waited for her to put the mug back on the coffee table, inconveniently near the third volume of “The Brief and Wondrous Life of Halemir Sundance”. He slipped the Ring off his finger and put it back into his pocket.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE, LOBELIA SACKVILLE-BAGGINS?!”, he shouted mercilessly. She screamed and jumped up, grabbing a massive candleholder from the coffee table and was about to attack the unexpected, well, host.

“Where have you been?!”, she shouted back. They heard Frodo’s waking squeak of scare.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Sackville-Baggins, but this is my house and I cannot recall inviting you here!”, he announced, putting one of his hands in his pocket and raising the other one in an effective gesture, leaning towards her. He stared at Lobelia with disgust. What was she thinking, sitting in his armchair, drinking from his mom’s favourite mug, taking his books (from the collection of the Green Classics of Hobbit Literature and Drama!), and violating his homely space in general?! “What are you thinking, sitting in MY armchair, drinking…”

“I am thinking that you have utterly lost your mind, Bilbo Baggins!”, she wasn’t taken aback and she still hasn’t put the candleholder to its place; on the contrary, she was rocking it and rolling in her hand, in a way that made Frodo afraid for Bilbo’s head. But Bilbo evidently wasn’t afraid of it, he was looking right in her eyes; and believe it when you’re told - it was not a look of friendship.

“Going around and adopting Tooks and Brandybucks! Now THAT is abominable! Outrageous! Gruesome! Objectionable! From what I know their parents are still alive!”

“Have you gone nuts, Lobelia?!”, Bilbo laughed, but he wasn’t smiling. Frodo was sitting pressed in into his armchair, with his eyes wide open. “I will adopt whoever I wish, and it’s none of your business, you are not getting Bag End anyway, you have gone away with my spoons and that’s enough, and next week I’m greeting my newly-adopted Dwarf-twins and there’s nothing you can do about it! Ha!!”

“Excuse me, I have PAID for the spoons!”, she reminded him, drawing the candleholder too close to his face. Bilbo pushed the candleholder away from him, Lobelia pushed it back in its place, and he pushed it forward, and she pushed it back, and they were pushing it over and over. “I have paid for them, and it was legal!”  
“Legal! Was assigning me dead legal as well?!” Bilbo raised his voice as much as Frodo had never heard before.

“Technically? It was!”

“And you were exceptionally happy to have me assigned dead!”  
“You were absent for over a year!”

“And you gave no thought to it, and just waited to take over Bag End when I vanished instead of, I don’t know, maybe looking for me?! If you were so dedicated to your family?!”

“I WAS searching for you, you fool! I made Otho write a polite letter to the Brandybucks! I visited the Tooks when I wasn’t hearing from you for a month! I personally visited them to be sure if you have not decided to move to Tookborough! One can never be sure with you. Listen, my boy! I. VISITED. THE. TOOKS. FOR. YOU!”

“Why were you concerned with my life at all, in the first place?!”

“Well I don’t know, because maybe it was thoroughly WEIRD for anyone to disappear with no notice for more than a year?! You know what state Bag End was in when I opened it together with Gaffer after two months?! A mess! You haven’t even taken your handkerchief with you! I thought you were kidnapped, especially that around that time Gandalf was seen here!”

“Don’t you go on insulting my friend, Lobelia! Don’t you even try, I am warning you!!”  
“You know what type of reputation Gandalf has here!”  
“I bet you’d be glad enough if I was kidnapped! You’d be the first to come and take over the property! You’d even thank for it! You thief!”  
“I came over to check if you are still alive, because nobody heard from you for a very…”

“Oh, stop it! I know you’ve always wanted to take over MY house! MY belongings! My family’s heirloom and keepsakes! My pre…” He shivered, but wouldn’t let Lobelia cut in. “I know you’ve always wanted to live here!”

“Yes”, she said calmly, taking the candleholder down. “Yes I have. Because this is a perfect house (and you are not taking sufficient care of it, going away every now and then, and abandoning it while I could be trusted to take care of it when you’re off). And I have so many childhood memories about this place. Your mom never treated me like you do. She knew I have kleptomania and...”

Bilbo snorted and puffed and crossed his arms.

“Yees, I remember she was always kind to you and tolerated your brazen behaviour, but this fact does not oblige me to…”

“Have I ever suggested that you were obliged to anything?! No, Bilbo, no one is obliging you to socialise! The fact is, you have not been kind to anyone of us for such a long time that it ceased to be expected from you, since you only value the company of Gandalf, Dwarves, Brandybucks and - and TOOKS! If you choose to be weird, it is your own choice, but you should take the consequences of your very own actions at face value and stop wondering why we consider you…”

“How dare you, Lobelia, talk to me like that in my…”

“Oh, stop, just stop you two!”, Frodo begged. “Please! I’ve had enough!”

They looked at him, suddenly remembering he was there. Bilbo sighed and put his hand in his pocket again, when Lobelia brought the candleholder to its original place and set it with due care. Frodo couldn’t believe that making them silent was so easy.

“Right”, said Bilbo after a few moments of bundersome silence. “So… why have you come?”

Lobelia shrugged and gently shook down a tiny crumb from her sleeve.

“To visit you. Have a chat. Like a family. I still…”

Frodo felt awkward, because Lobelia looked at him (softly?) and he was suddenly reminded of how Bilbo repeatedly told him he wasn’t notifying her about the adoption. She must have learnt from someone else and might have felt offended or simply ignored. She always seemed much preoccupied with family issues. Maybe she’s come to Bag End to simply get to know Drogo’s son and Bilbo’s heir. And she just took the worst moment possible, which didn’t have to be her fault, because who could know when Bilbo would be off. Sometimes even Bilbo wouldn’t know it. From what Frodo gathered, Lobelia’s repeatedly had bad luck to come to Bag End when Bilbo was absent, and she felt ignored, what made her angry, when also Bilbo felt his privacy was being challenged by her frequent and unwanted visits, and he was less and less welcoming towards her. Frodo had a strange suspicion that Bilbo and Lobelia could get on well if they just stopped performing their stubbornness and explained one or two misconceptions to one another.

“You shouldn’t have bothered”, said Bibo. “I know you’ll never like me, Lobelia. Just stop trying to like me, you don’t have to.”  
He was about to add: “There’s nothing wrong with hating your family, I do that all the time”, but the thought about Frodo stopped him.

“You gave me no reason to try to like you, really, ever since you came of age you were ridiculously annoying. Every now and then I think I might give you a chance and then… I see you and…”  
“Oh, don’t condescent so much for me!”, he mocked her.

“Oh, so you do know words longer than a two-syllable one”, she hissed and took her umbrella from the rack. “One understands when one is not welcome anymore. Oh, had your mother known that her house has become…”

“Goodbye”, Bilbo uttered it so that it communicated as much as “if you don’t leave my house this instant, you’re going to feel the entirety of my wrath expressed in the most ripe proverbs I heard in Erebor, and I have heard a lot of them”.

“Goodbye”, she replied, and it conveyed as much as “One might be leaving now, but this does not mean one will entirely resign”.  
Bilbo saw her off to the front door and shut it behind her. He sighed with relief and wiped his forehead with his favourite handkerchief. He thought that it was really, really peculiar how he always felt that the Ring suggested… things to him, especially the ways in which he could be more mean to Lobelia. He didn’t like Lobelia (and for some time he was also frightened she’d steal SOMETHING from him, nothing special, but he really hated the idea of being robbed). Despite that he got anxious and alarmed by the images the Ring has drawn to him a while ago. He took it out from his pocket and, without even glancing at it, he hid it in a small box by the fireplace.

Shutting the box, he instantly felt lighter.

“Frodo, where are you? We need to talk!”, he announced, hearing suspicious rustle from the corridor.

“Give me a minute, uncle!” was the answer. He went to meet Frodo and it was eventually revealed to his eyes what mess had been done.

Frodo was standing helplessly in the middle of it all, with two jars in his hands. Bilbo bit his lip and crossed his arms.  
“I’m so sorry, uncle, I can explain…”

“You better have a valid explanation for this, my dear Frodo. You better. But I don’t want to hear it now. I’m awfully hungry and Lobelia put me in bad mood.”

For a second he looked sadly concerned. Bilbo was struggling to be kind.

“Leave that to me, cleaning up the cuddy always soothes me. Please call the guests in, it’s time for a big dinner. I believe you and Sam can compose something fast and wholesome. I don’t care what, just do it. And for the love of Eru, don’t let the Took and the Brandybuck ruin anything else!”

“I’m sorry, uncle…”

“Oh, just go off already, we’ll talk later.”

He needed some time alone. When Frodo vanished, he started restoring the perfect order in the cuddy. He was comforted to see that none of the jars was broken and his supplies were not breached. Before he finished, a consoling smell of vegetable stew surrounded him. “Sam has the potential to become an excellent cook”, he thought to himself, smiling, and he set the last jar on the shelf. “I might give him some advice every now and again and he really might flourish.”

When he came to the dining room, he saw a young Brandybuck and an even younger Took sitting calmly and submissively by the table.

“Hullo uncle Bilbo”, they said at the same moment.  
“Hello, young lads”, Bilbo replied. “You two are as good as thirteen Dwarves at once!”  
“I’m sorry uncle Bilbo, I have nothing to do with it, it was Pippin alone.”

“Yes, I’m sorry uncle Bilbo, that was just me…”

“Oh. Then the destruction you bring is comparable to the one done by Smaug.”

Pippin giggled and Bilbo stroke his and Merry’s hair. He was glad to have them around (they made his Ring-anxiety, as he took to calling this affliction, less bothering).

The he personally commanded on what types of herbs should be added to the huge pot of vegetable stew, instructed Sam on when the taters were cooked, and blessed the meal with a little pinch of salt. Frodo filled the bowls with mashed potatoes and Bilbo personally ladled towering portions of the stew.

“Remember”, he lectured the young hobbits, when they were taking their seats by the table, “that the salt can only be added in the very end. You can forget the name of the capital city. You don’t have to know to whom the Longbottom Leaf is being sold in recent years. You will do without the knowledge of Dwarvish proverbs, as much as they’re useful and enlightening, or the lyrics of the Elbereth Gilthoniel hymn. You will probably never need to know how to climb a tree, sleep on the branches, or how not to fall of a tree-platform. You might never sit in a boat. You can be unable to communicate with Big Men, since you’re less then unlikely to meet any in your lives. But you always have to remember to add the salt in the very ending of the cooking process, otherwise the whole dish will be ruined.”

Sam nodded. He remembered this speech to the end of his happy years and even longer, and from this day on he always carried a small box of salt with him, and refilled it whenever he could.

**Author's Note:**

> i know that lotr fandom loves riddle games so i’ve prepared a riddle for you :> the first person to post the (correct!) answer in the comment can ask me to write a “The Hobbit” or “The Lord of the Rings” fanfic on a topic of their choice!  
> the question is as follows: where is Saruman being referred to in this fanfic? (you can provide a quote or describe it in your own words).  
> edit: congrats! the riddle is answered! see in the comments what the answer was and what ff i will be writing as a prize <3  
> (oh my gandalf, you have no idea how GLAD i am that someone actually thought about the riddle <3 )


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